Uncharted Territory (The Compass Series Book 3) by Tamsen Parker Page A

me again, so I repeat, spreading my legs still further apart. I feel open and exposed and my breath comes faster. He slides my underwear over my hips and leaves them there. What is he going to do?
    I don’t have to wonder long. He slips a finger inside of me, and I gasp. It’s quickly withdrawn, followed by a hard slap to my ass.
    “I said mouth closed. Next time it’ll be two. Behave yourself.”
    “Yes, sir.” I’m barely keeping my voice steady. I’m not hurt—although there’s a warm stinging sensation where he’s hit me—just…scattered. I’m feeling so many things, and it’s difficult to process while it’s all still happening. Like Hunter sliding his finger into me again. This time I’m not surprised, only desperate. I keep still and silent as he slides in and out and am rewarded.
    “Much better.”
    I keep my cool until he adds a second finger. A small moan escapes my lips followed inexorably by the withdrawal of his fingers and two sharp smacks to my behind.
    “One step forward and two steps back? I don’t mind playing that way, although you’re going to be quite sore awfully quickly. It’ll be three next time. I expect you to be still and quiet. Can you manage that?”
    His tone contains impatience, as do his fingers as they push back into me. It makes me want more than anything to please him, to give him what he wants, to not disappoint.
    “Yes, sir.”
    “We’ll see about that.”
    He continues his delicious torment in silence, making me desperate to keep the noises I want to make at bay. “Do you like this, sweetheart?”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “I thought so. I’ve never had anyone be so aroused so quickly. You’re soaking wet, and I’ve barely touched you. It’s delightful.”
    I nearly swoon under his approval, but manage to keep myself under control because Hunter doesn’t seem like one to tolerate swooning. He works at me for another minute before he withdraws. I see out of the corner of my eye that he brings his fingers to just below his nose before taking them into his mouth. Holy shit—did he just do that ? But the answer is yes, yes, he did. I barely have time to recover myself before he’s thrusting into me again. It takes every ounce of willpower I have to not meet his forays with my hips. It’s another minute before he stops, slides my underwear back up.
    “Sit on your heels facing me. Hands behind your back, eyes on me.” When I do, he commands, “Open your mouth.”
    I blink at him. What?
    “That’s three. But first I want to watch you taste yourself.”
    His hand comes to my jaw and he squeezes, forcing my mouth open, pushing the fingers that have just been inside of me between my teeth. At the pressure, the potency of an invasion so intimate, something inside me liquefies, and I struggle to keep my lids from sinking.
    “Suck. You taste good, I promise.” I hesitate, and he tsks at me. “That’s four more. I’m going to enjoy this, but I’m not sure you will. Now suck. I won’t tell you again.”
    I run my tongue over and around his fingers. While I don’t know I’d agree with him wholeheartedly that I taste good , it’s not an objectionable flavor: salty and slick. His fingers underneath my wetness have their own distinct taste that I prefer, and altogether, this is oh so hot. I want desperately to close my eyes, but I won’t. I’m already up to seven, and I don’t relish the idea of getting twelve. Or do I? I like the heat left in the wake of his last scoldings. But I’m sure I’ll screw up again before this is over. No need to pad my stats.
    “Stop.”
    I release his fingers and his hands leave my face. I note with pleasure that I have, absentmindedly, kept my hands clasped behind my back. He takes my chin between his fingers and turns my head from side to side, studying me.
    “Your eyes are two different colors.”
    “Yes, sir,” I confirm, blinking, doing my utmost not to look away.
    “They used to say that was a sign of being a witch, did